


(You've Got) Something I Need

by orphan_account



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Angst, Jealousy, Luke/Calum are speculated, Luke/Michael are in an Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 08:27:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3127838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael wouldn't say he was jealous. He totally was. But he definitely wouldn't <i>say</i> it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> a (hopefully not crappy and totally late) christmas present for my one and only adele. hope you like it! ♥
> 
> also, the title's from OneRepublic's song 'Something I Need" off their album Native.

Now, Michael wouldn't say he was jealous- he totally was, but he definitely wouldn't _say_ it. Instead he'd say, and only to himself, that he was annoyed with how much time and attention Luke gives to Calum. And he knows how stupid that sounds. He really, really knows. He's fully aware that they are one half of the band, and technically they have no choice but to spend the better part of twenty-four hours together; but what really gets Michael going is when they have a chance to do something all together, but Luke and Calum do it alone anyway.  Or Michael wants to do something with just Luke, but Luke invites Calum.

He also understands how close Luke and Calum are, he's never gonna deny that. It's kind of impossible to. He knows that they're basically attached at the hip on most days, partners in crime, a modern day Beavis and Butt-Head or something. But somehow knowing all of those things doesn't stop Michael from rolling his eyes when he sees them walking together sometimes, or keep him from needing to literally look away when he sees them lying together watching television or listening to music. 

Maybe Michael just figured since he and Luke became _them_ that things would change a little. Not that he was hoping that Luke would give less time to everyone else, because that would be unfair, but maybe just a little _extra_ time for him specifically. Back before they were honest with how they felt for each other, it made sense for them to try to not be all over each other all the time. It made sense for them to not share a hotel room every night, or always sit next to each other at restaurants or on the bus; but slowly they became less and less concerned about that and more concerned about just being them whenever they could. 

The thing about Luke is, he loves everyone. Literally everyone. And he'll openly soak up attention and affection from anyone who will give it to him. He'll talk to whoever wants to talk to him for hours and let them hug and touch him all they want and he doesn't see anything wrong with that. And technically, Michel guesses there is nothing _really_ wrong with that (besides the fact he can't go and grab Luke away and keep him all to himself). 

But what bothers Michael the most is that he gets the same painful jealous feeling in the pit of his stomach and the core of his heart when he sees Luke with Calum just like when he sees Luke being flirted all over by some stranger. And the thing is, he's not even sure if how Luke and Calum behave could be considered flirting taking into account how flirty they all are with each other. Personal space and restricting the amount of times they touch each other was thrown out the window within months of knowing each other. But still - _even still_ \- Michael can't let himself get over how much he just wants Luke to himself and only himself. 

Like now, they're all lying on a couch too small to fit all four of them but they'd be damned if any of them were anywhere else. And they're in the order they're sort of always in: Ashton, then Calum, then Luke, then Michael. It just always seems to work out that way. Ashton's snuggled himself in the corner, leaning toward the arm of the chair and a small pillow betweem him and Calum despite Calum still managing to throw his feet over Ashton's shins. Luke's got his head on Calum's shoulder and Calum keeps switching from resting his head on top of Luke's and leaning back on the couch cushion. Michael's only let himself look over at them once and decided it was one time too many. 

Luke's hand is resting between his thigh and Michael's thigh, and every once in a while he'll stroke Michael's leg with his thumb but it only lasts for a second before he whispers something to Calum and they both giggle. Michael rolls his eyes a little and clears his throat. 

He hears Luke whisper to Calum, "What if the dog just farts on this guy's head," as the Golden Retriever in the film they're half-way watching readjusts himself on the pillow between the sleeping couple. Calum laughs, immediately covers his mouth when Michael shushes him, and looks down at Luke. He shakes his head, still pressing his fingers to his mouth and whispers back loudly, "That'd be fuckin' epic."

Ashton has perfected the art of tuning Luke and Calum and Michael out when he needs to; so he doesn't react when they both start laughing again, this time about something Michael didn't catch and is glad he didn't. Luke adjusts his head on Calum's shoulder, looks up at him, and says something to him. Calum's eyebrows raise and his eyes are just as animated as they always are when he's trying not to laugh too loudly.

A moment later he's giggling again, saying something about how Luke's breath on his neck is tickling him. He smacks Luke's shoulder and Michael thinks he's gonna explode maybe. 

"Will you two fucking shut up," Michael says dryly, only taking a second to glance over at them before forcing his eyes to stay forward toward the television. From the corner of his eye he sees Calum look over at him, sort of scrunch his eyebrows, then look back toward the movie.

Calum mumbles, "Someone's grumpy," with a bit of a huff before he settles back with his head resting on Luke's.

Then everyone's still and quiet and Michael sort of feels like an asshole for killing their fun.

Without turning his body or looking away from the movie Luke reaches for Michael's hand. Slowly, he interlocks their fingers, almost like he's unsure if he can right now, and Michael hears him let out a breath when he doesn't pull his hand away. Luke slides his fingers over Michael's gently in a soothing circular motion that lets Michael know he's trying to calm him, and it only makes Michael feel worse. Because Luke's still lying on Calum and Calum's head is still on Luke's and somehow Michael just feels like an afterthought. He doesn't pull his hand away though, he actually holds Luke's hand tighter. 

It only takes a few minutes before Luke is rolling off of Calum's shoulder and resettling himself on Michael's instead. Michael, his pride trumping his emotions, tries to act like he doesn't even notice that Luke is lying on him. Although he doesn't look down at him, he can feel Luke staring up at him, mentally trying to get his attention, but something inside Michael won't let him cave. He blinks but keeps his eyes on the movie. 

He can feel Luke's breath on his shoulder and the heat from his body pressed against him but he doesn't let himself look down at him. Luke rubs his head against Michael, a childish, animal-like action and then he's pressing his nose into Michael's neck. Michael takes in a breath, lets it out slowly, but doesn't look away from the screen.

Luke plays with his fingers absently. He slides his thumb over the back of Michael's hand, runs his index finger over his knuckles, then laces their hands back together. From the corner of his eye Michael sees Luke look over in Calum and Ashton's direction briefly before he whispers slowly, "Sorry, Mikey," with his lips pressed against Michael's shirt and only loud enough for the both of them to hear. He can hear the bit of sadness in Luke's voice; he hates making anyone upset with him- especially Michael. Luke stares up at Michael for a few more seconds then finally tears his eyes away when he realizes Michael isn't going to look at him.

He looks defeated. He breathes out a little heavy, but doesn't remove his head from Michael's shoulder or his hand from Michael's. Instead, Luke kisses his shoulder, another apology somewhere in the gesture and now Michael sort of wants to slap himself. 

"It's okay," he finally mumbles to Luke after a while, although he knows he really doesn't have the right to. If anything, Michael thinks he should be the one apologizing to Luke. 

*** *** ***

Michael's willpower when it comes to Luke is slim to none.

Just minutes after the movie ending Ashton excuses himself to the bathroom to shower and Calum complains about being hungry until he finally works up enough energy to get up and head to the kitchen. Then it's just Michael and Luke in the living room, in the same position they've been in since Luke began lying on him.

Michael has let his determination to not look at Luke pass and now he can't keep from looking down at him every few seconds. With his free hand, Michael covers both his and Luke's hand. His fingers trace the veins that emerge from Luke's wrist and spread out toward his fingers and watches him smirk slightly. Luke jerks his hand away, holding in a laugh as he whispers, "That tickles."  

Then their hands still and their smiles subside and they're just in silence. An easy, comforting type of silence that they don't get too often and try to cherish when they do. Nothing but the sound of Calum rummaging through the kitchen and the faint spatter of Ashton's shower running can be heard. Every once in a while there's the sound of running water from Calum in the kitchen, then the sound of him humming an Aerosmith song. Background noise. It's soothing in a way. Like Luke and Michael are in their own little bubble while the rest of the world and all it's chaos carries on. 

Michael leans toward the arm of the couch, lying himself on his back and taking Luke with him to lay on his chest. Immediately Luke wraps his arm around Michael's middle, gripping the side of his shirt like he never intends to let go and Michael hopes he doesn't. They adjust their bodies until they fall into a position that makes them fit perfectly and it makes Michael sort of feel like he's floating when he thinks about how well he and Luke fit together. Not just their bodies, but their personalities, their everything. Total opposites but somehow exactly the same.

In the back of his mind he knows they shouldn't work as well as they do. They shouldn't fit like this. Two six-foot-something people shouldn't be able to puzzle together their extremities in the way they do. Someone like Luke shouldn't mesh so well with someone like him. Luke's subtle and soft personality shouldn't coexist so well with Michael's blunt and rugged one. But somehow they do and Michael's done with questioning why and is content with thinking why _not_ instead. 

Luke's stare pulls him out of his own head. He smiles at him and Michael smiles back. 

"What are you thinking about?" Luke asks him, eyes soft and curious like they always are. He stops his hand right over Michael's heart, lifts his head, and rests his chin on his hand. He looks into Michael's eyes like he's searching for something.

Michael's fingers begin to trace circles on Luke's back. He slides his hand under his shirt and feels Luke's warm skin against the palm of his hand. Luke's eyelashes flutter when Michael's fingertips begin to draw lines across his skin. 

He tells Luke truthfully, "You." 

Luke presses his smile to the back of his hand. "Oh yeah?" he says, his voice slightly muffled. "What about me?"

"I don't know, just--," he stops and shrugs. Now Michael's smiling as he shakes his head. "Just you." 

Wrapping his leg around the other side of Michael, Luke sits up a little. He's smirking, flirty and playful, as he leans down and kisses across Michael's collarbone. His tongue is soft against Michael's skin and it makes his breath hitch a little and he digs his nails into Luke's back. 

"Like what?" Luke says with a bit of a whine to his voice, which is the exact opposite of the cocky smile he's wearing because he knows exactly what he's doing. He bites at Michael's neck softly, smears his lips against his skin and breathes him in. Under him Michael squirms. And before he has the chance to find his voice Luke's asking again quietly, "Like what?"

Michael swallows hard. His tongue runs over the top of his bottom teeth as he pushes his legs together a little more to allow Luke to straddle him properly. 

"Likeee," Michael starts slowly, a giddy type of smile on his face. He can't stop himself from smiling. The tips of Luke's hair are soft against his cheek and his weight is solid on top of him. His hand moves toward the center of Luke's back and runs his fingers down the indent of his spine. Mentally shaking himself, Michael has to kick-start his brain to form a sentence. "Like... your smile..."

Luke kisses his neck again, moving higher.

"Mmhm," he whispers deeply with his lips pressed just under Michael's chin. "What else?"

"And your...um." Michael can't think anymore. The only thing he can register is Luke's kisses over his pulse and his tongue sliding across his skin and the way he's pushing down into him. He swallows hard and closes his eyes just as Luke's teeth graze his neck, daring to dig in. "Your--fuck, um, your... _mouth_." 

He can hear Luke laugh softly, amused at how Michael's trying to keep his voice steady. He doesn't stop moving his lips against Michael's neck as he slides his hand up Michael's chest to hold down his shoulders. He presses open-mouthed kisses upward until he reaches Michael's ear; only stopping momentarily to kiss his cheek in a less sexual but more loving way. But a second later his tongue slides around the curve of Michael's ear and he can't help but moan. An unsteady, shaky sound that he tries to muffle by leaning into Luke's hair but it doesn't help much. His hand pulls teasingly at the waistband of Luke's boxers. He can feel Luke smiling. 

Luke's voice is hot against Michael's ear as he's whispering, "What about my mouth?"

"Oh my God," Michael groans, a little too loudly, and suddenly Calum's voice makes them both jump.

"Get a room, I'm gonna throw up," he scolds, but he's laughing. 

Luke sits up and they both snap their heads in Calum's direction. He's standing a few feet from the opening of the kitchen with a plate of eggs and bacon. He shakes his head at them then takes a bite of his eggs.

"Oh," Luke says guiltily, then drops to hide his face between Michael's neck and the couch cushion. Suddenly Luke looks small; curled up slightly embarrassed against Michael's side, and the person he had just a few seconds ago has disappeared. His voice is barely audible when he calls out, "Sorry, Cal," with his face still hidden.

Michael removes his hand from under Luke's shirt and slides it into the back of Luke's hair instead. He kisses the side of Luke's head. 

"Seriously," Calum mumbles as he heads toward his room rolling his eyes. "You guys are fuckin' gross."

Michael can only smile. Somehow he feels accomplished. 

*** *** ***

Michael's planned trip to the mall with just Luke turned into Michael, Luke, Calum and Ashton's trip to the mall. Michael doesn't understand how this happened. Actually, he knows _exactly_ how this happened because this is how it always happens: Michael makes plans with Luke and tries subtly tell him he just wants it to be them two. He even uses phrases like, "When's the last time just me and you hung out?" and "I feel like we haven't been alone in forever", then follows that up with a suggestion for them to go out for a day. Somehow all of that gets lost in translation to Luke's brain and by the end of Michael's sentence Luke's texting Calum. Then Calum, in turn of course, is texting Ashton and now all four of them are in the van heading to the mall. Wonderful. 

And in a less sarcastic way it is wonderful, because Michael does love his friends and he wants to be around them but it's just not what he wants right now. Ashton and Calum go out alone all the time. Luke and Ashton do it too. Calum and Luke go out alone basically every damn day. But never him and Luke. It's just like the universe won't let it happen. 

They spend the day at the mall in a quartet mostly. The town they're spending their week-long break in is pretty lowkey so there's not a ton of screaming fans or paparazzi. It's actually kind of peaceful to be able to walk into whichever store they want and look around without having to worry about taking thirty pictures in a row before they can even leave. They only encountered three fans since they got here an hour ago and they were all super nice and kind so none of them minded stopping for a second to take a picture and say hi. 

Ashton and Michael are a few steps behind Calum and Luke as Calum pulls Luke into some store and Michael rolls his eyes. He's not aware that he made a noise until Ashton asks him with a scrunch of his eyebrows, "What's your problem?"

Michael blinks. "What? What are you talking about?"

He and Ashton stop outside of the store the other two are in and lean against the railing. Ashton shrugs, giggling a little. "I don't know man you like, fuckin' groaned or something I don't even know what that noise was, but. I don't know, I thought something was wrong." 

Over Ashton's shoulder Michael watches Luke and Calum coo over something inside the glass case at the front register. Luke throws his arm over Calum's shoulder, rests his weight on him and points to something else inside the glass. Michael looks away. 

"I'm fine. Nothing's wrong," Michael says.

Ashton surveys him again, takes in the way he's standing, the annoyed look on his face he's trying really hard to hide, and the way he keeps looking passed him and into the store. But Ashton can tell that whatever it is, Michael doesn't want to talk about it. At least not here and now, so he decides not to press him about it. He shrugs again and says to Michael, "Whatever you say, man. C'mon, let's go inside."

Soft rock music is playing over the radio and t-shirts of people the whole band idolizes are hanging decoratively along the walls in huge picture frames. Michael walks a few steps ahead of Ashton as they both approach Calum and Luke. They're both still engulfed in whatever is inside of the glass casing. Behind the counter, the cashier smirks as he watches them, as animated as ever, look over the merchandise. 

Just as Michael's approaching them he hears Luke tell Calum, "No dude, this one's definitely cooler," as he points to something below them. Michael takes notice of how Luke no longer has his arm around Calum's shoulder but they're still standing only centimeters apart, hands almost touching. Calum shifts his weight from his right foot to his left and now he's leaning into Luke a little to help keep his balance. Michael knows it shouldn't bother him, but it does. 

"Hey," Michael calls out. It's meant to be a casual greeting but even he can hear the strain to his voice. He walks up behind Luke and places his hands on the glass on either side of him, surrounding Luke's body with his. Michael's hand lands in the little space between Luke and Calum's hand, and he presses down until Calum slides his hand away to make room for his. He takes a step to the right. 

Luke looks over his shoulder, sort of surprised to suddenly see Michael this close but he doesn't pull away. He smiles.

"Michael, will you please tell Luke that the skull necklace is definitely cooler than the lame guitar one?" Calum points to both of the necklaces then looks up briefly when the cashier laughs a little. 

Letting his chest press against Luke's shoulder, Michael leans over him to get a better look. Briefly, more uninterested than interested, Michael eyes both pieces of jewelry then shrugs. He says halfheartedly, "I like the guitar one."

"Ha," Luke blurts out instantly, making a face at Calum.

Calum rolls his eyes. "I don't know why I asked you, I shoulda seen this coming." 

They have a rule. Not technically a rule, but a folkway that Michael and Luke probably shouldn't be too all over each other in public. At first Michael was really pissed about it. He felt like they had to hide and that made him feel like what they were doing was wrong somehow. Or, at least that the world would look at what they were doing as something that was wrong or backward. But the more he thought about it and reasoned it out, the more he understood. Chances were there'd probably be more negative sanctions than positive ones and they, as a band and as him and Luke, don't need that type of stress on top of their normal amount of stress. Fans question them all the time, but as long as they stay pretty neutral, it seems to just pass more as running joke than anything else. Michael's let himself become okay with "joking" about having a crush on Luke when there's a lot of people around and being serious about it when they were alone or around people they can trust. 

So when he places his hand over Luke's and takes away the final millimeters of space between their bodies he can feel Ashton, Calum, and the cashier staring at them. He pretends he doesn't see them and lets his fuck-what-people-think attitude dominate. Suddenly he doesn't care who sees. Maybe he wants everyone to see.

Michael's cheek presses into the side of Luke's head. He can feel Luke blushing but he leans into Michael's touch anyway, because his natural reaction is still to go to Michael when he's looking for comfort. 

"You want me to buy you it?" Michael asks, his voice slow and smooth. He points at the necklace Luke was admiring a few minutes ago. 

Luke shrugs. "You don't have to."

Michael's hand slides down Luke's back and stops on his waist. He curls his fingers and takes a handful of Luke's shirt into his hand as he steps closer, leaning on him. The cashier looks away. Michael clears his throat. 

"Um, can I have this one?" Michael's saying to the cashier a moment later. The annoyance in his tone is prevalent, he doesn't even try to hide it. 

He reaches in his back pocket for his wallet and hands he man his credit card. Still, Michael can see the way the he's looking at him and Luke, or rather, trying not to look at them at all. His discomfort is clearly written on his face and somehow it's like fuel to Michael's anger and ego. He stares at the man; a protective, but definitely douchey cock to his eyebrow, almost daring him to say something to either of them. Michael's been holding his tongue all day and he'd love to go off on someone. 

Ashton, always sensing tension, returns to the counter and leans against it. He doesn't say anything verbally, but his eyes scream a million things. From the corner of his eye, Michael can see Ashton trying to assess the situation. Mentally, he surveys Michael's stance, the way he's holding Luke's shirt, and the glare he's giving the cashier. Then he takes in the cashier's body language: annoyed, defensive, and a little offended. Ashton taps his fingers on the table in a soothing rhythm. Always trying to be the peace-maker. The rest of them are thankful for him.

Behind Ashton, Calum leans against the counter too. He seems less in-tune with the tension between Michael and the employee. He eyes other pieces of jewelry inside the case silently. Momentarily, Ashton looks over his shoulder at him then back at Michael. 

Michael clears his throat again, Luke looks down. 

The cashier stays polite despite his disapproving glare. He says, "Have a nice day," to Michael as he hands over his card and the bag and even offers a smile. Michael nods, gives Luke the bag, then heads for the door with the other three following him. 

They only walk a few steps away from the store before Ashton is pressing his shoulder into Michael's in a pretty obnoxious way. 

"What the fuck was _that_?" he asks in a yelling whisper, his eyebrows arched and his eyes clearly confused. 

Michael shrugs, keeps his face emotionless. "Dunno what you're talkin' about."

He pushes his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and doesn't look back when Ashton stops abruptly, probably for dramatic effect. Michael rolls his eyes. 

"Wow," Ashton calls after him. 

*** *** ***

Being alone with his thoughts is probably never the best idea but its always where Michael finds himself whenever he's feeling down. He has a really bad habit of isolating himself when he needs to be around people the most. He blames it on the side-effects of being an only child, but he and everyone else knows it's all him. It's just how he's always been. If he's had a bad day his instant reaction is to shield himself off from the rest of the world. That's just how it's always been.

They've all been home from the mall for a few hours now and Michael immediately excused himself to his room, stripped himself of his jacket and shoes, and settled himself between a mess of pillows and bed sheets. Now he lies toward the right of his bed with the covers up to his forehead and curled up into the smallest ball his body will allow. His lights and television are off and he hasn't made a sound since he's closed his door and blocked himself off from any other human life. They must assume he's asleep because no one's called him or knocked on his door and he's thankful for that.

Just outside of his door he hears the three of them doing something that involves a lot of yelling and laughing. The darkness in his room allows their shadows from outside to create deformed shapes on the ground by his door. They're having fun. They're happy. He pulls a pillow over his head and squeezes his eyes shut. Right now Michael doesn't want fun and happy.

"Okay, okay!" Michael hears Calum's voice through the door. He's laughing, trying to get himself together. "Okay, so me and Luke verses you!"

There's more laughter, then Ashton's yelling back, "Fine, I'll still kick both your asses!"

Michael lets out a pathetic sort of laugh as he thinks that's sort of how it always is. It's always Calum and Luke, no matter what. And Michael tries to reason with himself and tame his mind but he can't stop himself from thinking that somehow he wouldn't be surprised if he found out that Calum and Luke were more than friends. Like logically, he would make himself understand. They're always together and they're always alone and who knows what they do when Michael's not there.

And somehow he thinks he wouldn't blame either of them. It doesn't make any sense and he knows it, but he doesn't think he'd be actually mad at them but rather upset with himself for letting himself get attached to someone who looks like Luke. Especially when he's always around someone who looks like Calum. And Ashton. And the rest of the world for that matter. He's never been quite sure why Luke picked him when he could literally have anyone else in the world, but he's damn sure glad he did. But Michael thinks he couldn't let himself be mad at Luke for realizing there's bigger and better fish in the sea than him.

Then he tells himself that Luke isn't that type of person, and Calum isn't that type of friend. He knows deep down that Luke isn't the type of person to cheat. And deep down he knows that Calum isn't the type of person to allow something like this to happen. But it doesn't help much because a second later Michael's reminding himself of how close he saw them standing last, or how Luke seems to always be in Calum's hotel room, or how they looked at each other earlier and suddenly nothing else seems as important. He tells himself anything can happen, and that anything just might be his boyfriend falling for their best friend instead of him right under his nose.

Michael brings his hands up and rubs his eyes roughly, then lets them stay over his eyes covering his face. He wishes he knew how to turn his brain off so he didn't have to think anymore.

*** *** ***

He's not exactly sure when he stopped sulking long enough to drift off to sleep but he wakes up when he hears his door open. Luke is the only person who doesn't knock before coming into his room so he figures it must be him. Michael thinks about turning over or sitting up or at least saying something, but he can't make himself move right now. He closes his eyes and thinks maybe if he still looks like he's asleep Luke will come back later. It's not that he doesn't want to see Luke at all, but he knows he's still in a shitty mood and it probably won't end well.

The bed dips as Luke climbs on it and crawls over to Michael. His body is cold as he invades the warmth Michael has drowned himself in. Luke's arm slides over Michael's midsection and he rests his head on top of Michael's. 

"Wake up, sleepyhead," he calls out softly. It's sweet and Michael hates that it makes him smile. He doesn't want to smile right now. He doesn't move though, instead he stays still as Luke shakes him a little and nudges his nose into the side of Michael's hair. From the corner of his eye Michael catches the time. 11:07 pm. 

It doesn't take long for Michael to give in and before either of them know it he's groaning out groggily, "Why are you so cold?"

"Sorry," Luke whispers with a bit of a laugh. "I was outside." He kisses the side of Michael's head softly. 

Mentally, Michael tells himself he should just leave it at that. He tells himself that he's already upset and barely keeping it together so he shouldn't push it. But it's almost too good of an opportunity to pass up. Suddenly he _has_ to know.

Michael asks lightly, "Where'd you go?" 

"Cal and I took a walk." 

"Just you two?" He can't stop himself from asking. He tries to keep his voice nonchalant, like he doesn't really care and is just making conversation. He's not sure how well that tone is being translated however. 

Behind him, he feels Luke shrug. "He said Ash was tired or something."

They lay in silence for a while before he hears Luke clear his throat a little and Michael can tell he has something to say but doesn't know if he should. Michael closes his eyes and waits. He doesn't want to talk at all so he doesn't plan on putting any effort in to keep the conversation going.

"Are you, um. Are you okay?"

Luke's voice is small and unsure. Of course he's noticed Michael's hot and cold type of attitude lately, so Michael should have also seen this coming. The concern. The confusion. 

Michael tightens his grip on the pillow. "I'm fine."

Again, there's silence, but Michael knows Luke's not done. He cares too much. He knows Michael too well. 

He hears Luke swallow. "Well, um, are you...sure?"

Luke's way of letting Michael know he's not telling the truth. If there's one thing this band can say for sure is they've learned each other better than anyone else. One look at each other and they can tell their mood without having to ask. They know what each other needs if they're having a bad day; which ones would rather cuddle and which ones would rather be alone. They know how to balance responsibility during interviews and when to jump in for someone who's having trouble with a question. But, most importantly, they know when each other is lying. Or, at least not telling the whole truth. 

Michael leans toward his side, separating himself from Luke's touch a little. 

"I'm sure," he mumbles back. 

There's only a few seconds of silence before Luke's whispering back, "Okay."

Luke, not one to argue or push anyone lets that discussion die down but makes a mental note to come back to it later. He nods at Michael, rubs his shoulder in solace, then stands up. He removes his jacket, shoes and jeans quickly and tosses them to the chair by Michael's window. Immediately Michael feels Luke's hands return around his stomach. 

"Stop hoggin' all the blankets," Luke says to him, a smile pressed to the back of Michael's shoulder. 

Michael doesn't mean for his voice to be as on edge as it is when he says a little too coldly, "Maybe you should sleep in your bed tonight."

He feels Luke freeze and he lets out a nervous type of laugh, trying to survey the seriousness of Michael's suggestion. He's still for a few more seconds and when Michael doesn't backtrack or add anything he sits up. 

"Did I do something wrong?" Luke's voice is a little shaky but he tries to hide it. Suddenly Michael feels worse than he did a second ago. 

"No."

The silence is thick. Painfully thick. He can feel Luke staring at the back of his head. In his mind Michael can picture just how Luke's face looks. Eyes wide with his eyebrows arched upward, confusion and pain etched clearly on his face. He can picture the way his mouth is hung open just a little and the way his teeth must be grazing over his lip ring just like he always does when he's nervous. He tries to shake the mental image but he can't-- it's burned into his brain.

When Luke speaks again his voice is lower; a sadness to it that comes from confusion and helplessness.

"Well, are you... mad at me?" he asks. He tugs at the blankets below him and Michael, looking for something to do with his hands to keep from pulling on Michael's shoulder and forcing him to look back; to at least kick him out with the sense of pride and respect of looking into his eyes when he does it. 

Still with his back turned and his eyes closed Michael shakes his head. He can't allow himself to turn over to look at him. "No," he tells him again. 

And that's the truth. He's not mad at Luke. Not really. Not technically. If anything, Michael's more mad at himself. Mad that he's acting his way and can't make himself stop, mad that he's allowed himself to get this way, mad that he could be losing Luke but here he is pushing him away even more. He's mad that there's an even bigger possibility that he's just exaggerated this all in his head and is making an even bigger fool of himself. He's mad that being with Luke isn't enough for him. He's mad that he can't get that little voice out of his head from his early teenage years that keeps telling him he's never enough and there's always gonna be someone better. He's mad that somewhere, in the darkest part of his brain, he actually thinks that Calum could be better for Luke. 

In the silence he hears Luke take in a breath then let it out slowly. The movement of Luke getting off the bed is the only thing that lets Michael know he's going. He takes his clothes without a word and heads for the door briskly. There's a bit of a pause before it closes and it takes a few seconds before Michael hears Luke's footsteps head down the hall and then the sound of Luke's own door closing. 

Michael tells himself he's fucked up over and over until the words blur together and he can't think straight anymore. 


	2. Chapter 2

It's just after 3:30 in the morning when Luke finds himself pushing open Calum's door. His room is pitch black with the exception of his curtains being open, slicing the room in half with a pale line of light. Being as quiet as he can, Luke lets the door fall shut and walks softly over Calum's deep brown carpet to the edge of his bed; avoiding disregarded t-shirts and water bottles that Calum's thrown mindlessly on the floor.

In the back of Luke's mind he's telling himself to just go back to his room and sleep everything off but something in his heart won't let him be alone tonight. So he reaches out, grips Calum's wrist gently and shakes it.

Immediately Calum jumps; instinctively, he tries to pull his arm away and doesn't begin to calm until Luke calls out in a weak whisper, "It's just me." 

He hears Calum take in a deep breath and then groan as he drops back down on his bed, still not fully opening his eyes. With his other hand he brings it up to his face, then slides it though his messy hair. "Don't fucking do that," he scolds in a strong voice but Luke knows he's more shaken up than actually upset.

Luke swallows hard, takes a seat on the side of the bed and looks down at the floor. He plays with his fingers absently. "I'm sorry," he answers back.

There's a break in Luke's voice that catches Calum's attention as his brain is beginning to work properly. It makes him sit up on his elbows. Quietly he looks over Luke; blinking his eyes a few times as they adjust to the low light. Then it hits him that Luke's in his room in the middle of the night and he sounds upset about something. Calum feels his heart begin to beat a little faster. 

"You okay, Luke?" he asks slowly, sitting up properly now. The concern in his voice is comforting and genuine. That was always Luke's favorite thing about Calum: his compassion. Luke's always liked that he and Calum could joke around for hours but then have a serious talk when they needed to. Although Luke has brothers and Calum has a sister, they've always felt like brothers to each other too; always looking out for each other, always together. It's like they've reached a different level of friendship with each other that means a little more. When they talked there was never any judgement or any shame about anything they've told each other. He was the first person Luke told when he came to the conclusion that he sort of, maybe liked boys too; and Calum was the first person to tell him it was okay. They've always reminded each other that if for whatever reason they had absolutely nothing left in this world, they'd still have each other. And having that in the back of their minds has helped them through a number of rough times. 

Calum just barely sees Luke's shoulders shrug before he answers back quietly, "I don't know."

"Well," Calum says slowly after a second. He considers reaching out and touching Luke's shoulder but decides against it for the time being. "Did you have a bad dream?"

Calum's first guess, and pretty good one if they're both honest. The first few weeks at the London house were filled with nights of Luke coming into his room, stuffed penguin in hand, after he had a bad dream and asking to sleep next to him. They'd stay up and talk for a while; nothing serious or too heavy, just lighthearted things to get Luke's mind off whatever he saw in his sleep long enough for him to get tired again. Calum even got used to Luke cuddling up behind him; and sometimes he would even wrap his arm around Luke's stomach to remind him that anything he saw with his eyes closed wasn't real but anything he felt with them open was. Calum would never admit it fully, but he was always happy to see Luke at the foot of his bed at night because being on their own in London was pretty scary at first, so sleeping near someone familiar helped him more than he'd tell anyone. 

Luke shakes his head but keeps it down. He says back just above a whisper, "No."

"Are you...hurt?" His eyebrows scrunch together, not really sure what else to guess at this time of night. Luke doesn't seem hurt, not physically anyway, but Calum's running out of ideas. Patiently, he waits for Luke to respond but he's not exactly sure what to say. Luke knows he's not bleeding or anything but his heart hurts and his head does too from thinking too much and it sort of feels like the entire world is spinning. 

It seems like time stands still for a moment. Luke stops moving so Calum does too- suddenly more cautious and concerned. He digs his fingers into his mattress, anticipation and worry creeping hurriedly through his veins. He leans forward and pulls on Luke's shirt. "Luke?"

"He's mad at me," Luke says back instantly, his words overlapping Calum's call. 

Calum stops, thinks about it for a second, then asks with a raise of his eyebrows, "Michael?" 

Luke nods, mumbles out, "Yeah," with his voice breaking. 

"Oh," Calum says so softly he barely even hears it himself. This is new territory for him. Luke and Michael have been together long enough for all of them to be used to it, but they've never really fought before. At least not like this. It was never bad enough for Luke to come seeking him out in the middle of the night because he's too upset to sleep. 

Calum's actually still pretty surprised at how well they're working out. But then again, Luke and Michael's relationship has always been a little surprising, even from the very start. From enemies to best friends to more than friends in the condensed amount of time they did it in are all pretty big jumps. But Luke's compliant when Michael's pushy, and Michael's protective when Luke's vulnerable, and Luke's supportive when Michael's doubtful and somehow they've created this balance with each other that Calum even envies sometimes. 

They're all best friends, but what Luke and Michael had was always different; and the more Calum thinks about it, the more he thinks maybe he always knew. But committing to a relationship is always a little scary despite how long you've been close with someone. It's different and it changed them all a little. This wasn't just about Luke and Michael, it was about the band. It affected all of them. Ashton was the most cautious, he even called a band meeting to have them all talk about it. Not to talk them out of it, but to make sure they were ready. But Luke and Michael were set on telling both him and Ashton that this wasn't just some lonely fling they were having because they were on the road more than they were home and missing real human contact. They were truly serious about it- actually, Calum's never seen Michael more serious about anything and that in itself was surprising. 

"Are you sure he's mad?" Calum asks a moment later. He leans his head back against the wall. "Like _mad_ mad?"

"Mad enough to kick me out, I guess."

Luke turns toward Calum on the bed just as Calum's eyebrows are raising and his eyes are expanding a little.

Calum asks, "What were you arguing about?"

"We weren't even arguing, that's the thing!" Luke responds, his voice is upset but he lets out a dry, exasperated laugh- all of it is just not making sense he can't really do much else. 

Moving over, Calum pulls down his bed sheets and pats the spot next to him for Luke to lay in. He tosses him a pillow and readjusts himself on the cooler, previously unoccupied side of the bed. He slides his feet together for a few seconds as he tries to warm up. 

"Michael's been a little off lately," Calum says softly. "I don't think it's supposed to be directed at you. Like, maybe he's homesick or something? We haven't been home in like a month, so." 

Luke shakes his head. He pulls at the thin sheet over his midsection unconsciously. He keeps his eyes downward as he says back lowly, "I don't think he's homesick."

"Why not?"

"I just don't."

Calum looks away, running his hand through his hair again. "I don't know what else it could be then."

"He's mad at me," Luke argues, but there's no fight in his voice. He sounds small- defeated. 

Calum doesn't answer, instead he puts his arm around Luke and pulls him into his shoulder. He lays his head on Luke's and breathes in the scent of his hair. With his hand, he pets the side of Luke's head slowly. He tells him, "You don't know that for sure."

"But--"

"You don't know for sure," Calum repeats, but keeps his voice steady and without any heat in it. He doesn't need Luke think he's upset with him too. Not tonight. He continues, "Michael likes being alone, you know that. So maybe...he just needs to be alone right now. Maybe he just needs space."

Luke relaxes into Calum's side, fully resting his head on Calum's shoulder.

"I'm too clingy," he says, sounding upset with himself. 

Calum laughs a little. "No. Michael's clingy, you're cuddly. There's a difference. And that's not it either, I'm sure."

Groaning, Luke presses his forehead into Calum's collar bone. He throws his arm over Calum's bare midsection and squeezes his eyes shut. Luke's breath is hot against Calum's skin and he feels wetness against his chest. His fingers are soft in Luke's hair as he tells him softly, "It's gonna be okay."

"I just--," Luke starts. His voice sounds strained as he tries to keep it balanced and unwavering. "I just don't know what I'm supposed to do."

Leaning his head into Luke's hair, Calum suggest, "How 'bout we sleep?"

Wiping his eyes, Luke rolls off of Calum's shoulder and onto the pillow under him instead. He settles facing Calum, watching him mimic his previous actions as he slides down the bed to rest his head properly on the pillow. Calum rolls over, his back facing Luke and settling until he gets comfortable. Luke scoots forward, just close enough to rest his hand against Calum's back. 

"Thank you," Luke whispers, tapping Calum's back gently with his fingertips. 

Luke's eyes close just as Calum's beginnng to nod. 

"Try to sleep, okay?" Calum's voice is deeper and slower than it was a minute ago; tiredness beginning to creep back to him. "And if you wake up an hour from now and need to talk...Ashton's down the hall."

Luke laughs, presses his mouth to he back of his hand and nods. "I get it," he says, suppressing a smile. "G'night, Cal."

He hears Calum yawn; feels his rib cage expand and contract slowly. 

"Night, Luke."  

 *** *** ***

Luke doesn't come back to Michael's room and he's somehow both shocked and and not surprised at the same time.

Michael stays up all night and watches the sun rise from his bed. He's thought about going to Luke's room probably a thousand times since he left the night before but he couldn't make himself move. It's like he became addicted to the sadness and began craving the emptiness and anger it left him surrounded in. He told himself he should feel this way, that this is what he deserved. He told himself that he didn't deserve to make things right with Luke because he knows Luke will forgive him without a second thought and he doesn't deserve that either. 

It's just after ten o'clock when Michael's mind fills with nothing but images of Luke being alone, thinking he's the one who did something wrong when it was really just Michael getting into his own head. He thinks about him sitting up all night, feeling bad about himself, and Michael forces himself out of bed. Because even if Michael thinks he deserves to feel like shit, Luke definitely doesn't. 

The house is unusually quiet considering how loud all four of them are. But it's early and none of them are morning people so Michael assumes everyone's still asleep. The hardwood floor against his bare feet makes Michael's shiver and he suddenly wishes he brought his blanket along for this over-due apology he's about to give. He holds his breath as he approaches Luke's door and has to count to three before he twists the door knob and opens it. 

"Hey, are you awa--," he stops short when he sees Luke's bed vacant. It doesn't even really look like he's been in it. Michael's eyebrows furrow as he enters Luke room more. His suitcase is still on the ground in front of his bed, his Converse are still by the door, and his jacket is still thrown over the chair, so he didn't go far. And if he did, he's somewhere freezing his ass off and shoe-less so that doesn't seem likely. 

Michael turns around slowly, closing Luke's door in the process. He looks at Ashton's door and thinks about waking him up and asking him if he's seen Luke since last night. Somehow, despite that train of thought, Michael ends up at Calum's door. Momentarily he considers knocking but his hand is on the knob and twisting it before he can even process his movements. 

Ashton's door opens suddenly just as Michael pushes open Calum's and it distracts Michael for a split second. Startled, Ashton jumps a little, rubbing his eyes sleepily. "What the hell are you doing you creeper?" he asks groggily. 

Inside Calum's room Michael spots them both sleeping in Calum's bed, so close they almost look like one person. Luke's got his hand against Calum's back and the blankets are pulled to their elbows. Calum's leaning into Luke's touch, his head half on his pillow and half on the pillow Luke's lying on. Michael lets go of the door, allows it fall shut as his eyes close. He thinks his hands are shaking but he's too focused on getting the image out of his head that he isn't sure. He mumbles out, "You gotta be fucking kidding me," as he heads for the kitchen area with Ashton calling after him. 

"What?" he hears Ashton ask loudly as he heads down the steps without looking back. " _What_?"

Ashton's footsteps echo Michael's loudly as he chases him down the stairs. He catches Michael just as he enters the kitchen. His fingers catch Michael's arm loosely and he has to jog a few steps to be able to grip his arm properly. 

"Will you slow down for a second and tell me what the hell is going on?" Ashton asks, voice too loud for just waking up a minute ago. He doesn't let go of Michael's arm when he tries to pull away. Instead, he keeps his hand wrapped around Michael's bicep as he walks them both into the kitchen. He sits Michael down at the opposite side of the table from him. 

Folding his hands, Ashton starts again; this time his voice is more clam but still concerned. "Honestly, what's up with you lately?"

"What do you mean?" Michael asks back, determined to repel Ashton's inquisition. The sun is shining directly onto Michael's face and the heat makes him feel like he's being watched somehow. He leans forward on the table, letting the sunlight shine against his back instead. He looks down at the table, avoiding Ashton's searching eyes. 

"Michael," Ashton says tiredly. His eye lids are low and his mouth is slack, he looks like he's ran a mile or two. Emotionally exhausted, Michael guesses. He can relate. "Don't do this."

"Do what?"

Ashton makes a noise. An annoyed, tired type of noise that makes Michael roll his eyes a little. 

" _This_. Whatever this is. The sarcasm. The sheltering yourself off. The distance. Just...don't." Ashton leans forward too, so he can look into Michael's eyes properly. Ashton's hazel ones are soft and patient just like they always are when one of them needs them to be. "Talk to me?" he asks, a raise of his eyebrow and a bit of desperation in his voice. 

Michael sighs, hiding his face in his hands. He groans loudly then it subsides into something like a whimper. Ashton touches his arm and waits. 

"I'm a fucking idiot," Michael says, his voice pained and slightly muffled by his hands. 

Ashton squeezes his arm. "Why?"

Shrugging, Michael starts quickly with his words running together, "You know when you're with someone and deep down you know they could be with anyone else in the fucking world, and you keep that thought in the back of your mind and you can't get rid of it no matter how much you try?"

Ashton opens his mouth to respond but Michael continues, "And then you see them with someone else and even when they're not doing anything wrong, suddenly that little voice in your head isn't so little anymore and it's screaming at you that they're gonna leave you, or probably already have, and it drives you crazy?" Michael rubs his temples, keeping his eyes squeezed shut. He pulls at the ends of his hair until Ashton's hands halt his fingers. 

"Is that what that little incident at the mall yesterday was about? The guy was looking at Luke?"

Michael bites the inside of his lip. He can't say that the real reason he went all macho-man was because he was jealous of how close Luke and Calum were standing and the staring match with the cashier was just the result of his anger boiling over. He can't let Ashton know that he's been on edge about how close Luke is with Calum for months now and it's finally getting the best of him. It's not Calum's fault, or Luke's fault, or anyone fault but Michael's and he knows that. He's the one who can't get out of his own head and let the good thing he has with Luke just be a good thing. Michael thinks maybe he's not used to good things happening to him without a price.

So instead of saying all of that Michael settles for, "Yeah. Something like that."

There's silence for a while as Ashton's trying to find something to say. He tells Michael slowly and honestly, "Luke loves you." 

"I know." 

And that's the truth. Michael does know. He really, really does. But he's been telling himself that for way too long now and it doesn't help much. The thought that Luke loves him never seems to trump the thought that he could just as easily _un_ love him if he wanted to when he sees Luke with a fan or Calum or almost anyone for that matter. It becomes almost painfully obvious that there are a million people in the world who want to be with Luke when they're greeting fans and he's always the one that gets special attention. He's always the one that gets asked to kiss the fans on the cheek or take pictures with them holding hands. It's always his name they're calling first and thousands of girls yelling "Please marry me!" and "I love you!". Beautiful, model looking, breathtaking people trying to get Luke's attention and Michael knows it's inevitable for one of them to seem more appealing than Michael and grab it. The world is a constant reminder that there's always going to be someone trying to get what he has with Luke, and that fucking voice in Michael's head tells him it's only a matter of time before Luke realizes he can have someone better. 

Ashton sits back on his chair and lets out a breath. "So why are you doing this to yourself? If you know that he loves you, why is all of this happening?"

Michael groans again, aggravation and frustration apparent. "Because I'm a fucking idiot," he repeats. 

"Can I tell you something?" Ashton asks even though both of them know he's going to keep talking anyway. He slides his chair around the table and slides it next to Michael. He rubs his shoulder sympathetically as he starts, "Before you and Luke told us that you guys were more than friends, we all knew. All of us. Me, Calum, the crew-- everyone. There was something about the way you two looked at each other and smiled at each other that was just different. I've never seen you guys look at anyone the way you look at each other. And that look Luke gives you? That smile he has just for you? It hasn't gone away, man. I see it every day."

Michael's hand rubs his forehead slowly as he forces himself to look at Ashton. He nods.

"Just because you see him with other people doesn't mean he doesn't want you. Doesn't mean he doesn't love you anymore."

A wave of helplessness flushes over Michael. He presses the back of his hands into his eyes until he sees little white dots form from the black abyss.  

"It's scary, Ash," Michael says, a whine to his voice that makes Ashton want to hug him. 

"What is?"

Ashton rubs circles on Michael's back, waiting for him to speak. He watches him squeeze his eyes shut tight again and take in a breath. He holds it for a second, then lets it out slowly. 

Removing his hands from his face, Michael intertwines his fingers and rests his head on them. "I don't think I've ever loved anyone this much before," he admits, so quietly it's almost like he didn't say it at all. He watches Ashton blink and his mouth twitch, but he doesn't say anything. He nods, rubs Michael's back again and smiles at him. 

"I know," Ashton tells him.

He thinks maybe this is the most honest Michael's been with himself in a long time. 

*** *** ***

When the faint sounds of low voices and footsteps become apparent from upstairs Ashton pushes Michael's shoulder and gestures upward with his chin. "Go ahead," he says and offers a smile when Michael pushes his face into his hands again. But a second later he's nodding at Ashton because he knows he's right. He knows he should've apologized hours ago. 

As Michael approaches Calum's door he hears them talking. A voice, sounds like Calum, says something and then there's a soft laugh that's definitely from Luke. Michael waits in front of the door for a moment before he knocks. 

"It's open," Calum calls from behind the door. When Michael opens it he sees them both on Calum's bed, separated more now that they're awake, on either side of the bed. Luke's at the foot of it, on his stomach watching a cartoon Michael can't remember the name of.

He clears his throat and they both look up at him in the doorway. Calum, who was preoccupied by his phone, glances at him with a weary eye. "Can I, um," Michael looks at Luke and he's looking back with nervousness written all over his face. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

Immediately, Luke nods. He looks back at Calum before he rolls off the bed and walks toward Michael. Just as he's turning to follow Luke out, Michael catches Calum's look. An apprehensive, concerned type of stare as he watches them both exit his room. He knows Luke and Calum talked last night and Luke definitely told him how much of a dick he was. They're all close and love each other equally for the most part, but there's something inside of them that has the need to keep Luke happy, so that skeptical quirk in Calum's eyebrow directed toward Michael feels earned. 

Although Luke's room is closer they enter Michael's. His room is just how it always seems to be: dark, secluded, cave-like. As soon as the door is closed it feels like he and Luke have entered another dimension, like they've somehow found a gap in time that belongs to only them. It's quiet and still in Michael's room; they both stay silent as Michael walks to his bed and takes a seat. Luke stays a few steps away, his fingers twisting together in front of him. 

"I'm an asshole," Michael whispers. "I'm sorry."

Luke doesn't answer so Michael continues. "Look. I was a jerk. Like a really huge jerk last night and I know that and it wasn't fair to you--"

"Do I get to know why?" Luke asks, cutting Michael off. There's an edge to his voice but even in the low light Michael can see his eyes still look sad. He's not angry at him and Michael knows he should be. Hell, Michael knows he deserves to be. But then again Michael's never really seen Luke mad at anyone. At least not for more than a few minutes. He's too forgiving and Michael hopes it won't be his downfall one day. 

Michael looks away. His shoulders shrug and then he lets them sag, suddenly feeling as if they weigh a ton. Slowly, he lets out a breath. A million things and beginnings of sentences are rushing through his head, and suddenly he doesn't know where to start or how to begin. He says, "Well I'm--," and then, "I guess I--," and then "It's just--," but none of them transform into a proper sentence. Luke shifts his weight on his feet as he waits for Michael to say something; to say anything, really.

"I just want...," Michael blurts out in sort of a rush but his words break off and he stops talking. He twists the bed sheets below him trying to put into words what he's feeling. "I just want you."

"You _have_ me," Luke says back instantly and Michael can hear the hurt in his voice. 

"I know but," Michael looks away, guilt and disappointment in himself creeping up because he can feel the way Luke's looking at him and he knows he's overreacted. "It just doesn't seem like it sometimes. I just-- I don't know how to explain it." 

Luke takes a step forward but then takes a step back again. He stands in front of Michael almost timidly and Michael hates that he's still the one who feels like he's done something wrong. Michael pats he bed next to him and asks softly, "Come here?"

On the bed, Luke sits close enough for his leg to touch Michael's. He leans forward into himself, always a habit for him to make himself look smaller than he actually is. It's cute and it makes Michael smile a little. 

Michael isn't sure where to start or how to start so he just does. He says with his eyes glued to the carpet below them, "I guess it's just really hard to see you with other people. The way they look at you and touch you and I have to stand there and try to ignore it, when all I really wanna do is go right up in front of everyone and just kiss you so they'll stop." From the corner of his eye he sees Luke open his mouth to interject but Michael's mouth is on a roll now and he can't stop himself from continuing, "All these fans trying to get your attention and all the people we meet when we go out to parties and stuff-- like," he stops for a second and looks over at Luke. He lets out a breath and asks tiredly, "Do you even realize how many people try to make a move on you when we go out?"

Luke sits up a little straighter like Michael's question literally pushes him back. He's not really sure what to say. Of course he knows that a lot of fans are really into him, but then again a lot of fans are really into the rest of the band too. And it never really occurs to Luke that someone's being a little extra touchy with him until Calum comes up to him after saying something teasingly like, "Make sure you wipe all her slobber off you before you slip, dude," but even then Luke's a little taken back. And he never really took any of it seriously, especially Calum's comments, until, well, right now. 

"They're just fans, Michael," Luke says back in a small voice. He's not really sure what else to say. 

"It's not just the fans though."

Luke looks at Michael, eyebrows furrowing and mouth slightly open. Michael says as he counts off on his fingers, "The people we meet at random clubs who have no idea who you are but are still all over you? The girls who came up to you at those college parties we went to a few months ago and thought you were just somebody from their university they never met? The way they asked you to come back their dorm and you had to tell them you came there with friends and couldn't leave them? The girls _and_ guys that see you at the bars back home and are like, fuckin' mentally undressing you from down the bar and buying you drinks? Its just-- everyone."

Luke looks away. "I'm sorry," he whispers.

"It's not your fault," Michael says back, touching Luke's hand. "But it just really hurts when I see all those people all over you and I can't do anything about it; and it's even worse when it's just us I'll see you lying with Calum or something and-- fuck, I don't know."

He sees Luke's eyes go wide. "Calum?"

Immediately, Michael is backtracking. "No, no. Shit," he rubs his eyes roughly. "I'm an idiot, I'm sorry--"

"I'm not fucking Calum," Luke says with his voice steady and stern. Michael blinks, sort of frozen, because it's probably the most blunt thing Luke's ever said in his entire life. But that just shows Michael how serious Luke is, and how much of an idiot he is for even bringing it up. He grips Michael's wrist from his face and pulls it down so Michael has no choice but to look at him. He says with a desperate type of tone to his voice, "Calum is our best friend, our fans are just our fans, those people at the bar as just people at the bar. I'm with _you_."

Luke doesn't sound furious like Michael knows he should be. Instead he sounds sad; more hurt than anything that Michael would even speculate that there was ever a time when he didn't want to be with him. Michael's had a lot of fuck ups in his life but he's sure this one holds the number one spot. 

They stare at each other for a while, close enough they can feel each other breathing. Michael takes Luke's hand in his and squeezes it.

"I'm sorry," Michael says again. He presses his forehead to Luke's and watches his eyes slide up his body until their eyes meet. 

Luke's nodding as he takes away the space between their mouths. He kisses like he does everything else: tenderly. Michael relaxes against Luke's lips, pushing back gently, breathing in the air Luke's breathing out. With his other hand, Michael cups the side of Luke's face. He slides his thumb over Luke's cheekbone slowly. He apologizes again, his lips sliding against Luke's sloppily. His breath is hot against Luke's mouth and his voice is weak as he's whispering, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"Shut up," Luke says back, a smirk worn on his face as he pushes Michael backward on his bed. Easily, he throws one leg over Michael's midsection so both of his legs are surrounding Michael. He smiles as he's leaning down again to kiss Michael. 

And they stay like that for a while; kissing slowly, eyes closed, hands lingering. Michael's hands slide up the back of Luke's shirt and stop on his waist, moving slightly as Luke starts to rock on top of him. Luke's hands find their way into Michael's hair, his fingers card through the deep red locks. Michael's lips are soft and inviting and Luke only pulls back a little to smile when he feels Michael's hands sliding lower down his back. Michael wastes no time, he tucks his fingers under the hem of Luke's boxers and fights for space in the skin tight jeans he slept in. 

Luke pushes down on him slowly, a rhythm and position that makes Luke's inner thigh slide against his cock. Michael lets out a sound, sort of a moan sort of a sigh as he pushes Luke's shirt up with his other hand and tries to push his hips up harder into him for more friction. Suddenly, Luke sits up and Michael feels empty due to the lack of warmth on top of him. He watches Luke strip himself of his shirt and throw it carelessly somewhere to the right of them. Then he's tugging at the hem of Michael's black Metallica muscle shirt, making little impatient noises until Michael lifts up only high enough for the fabric to slide up his torso and over his head. 

Then Luke's back on top of him. He kisses from Michael's mouth to his neck to his collarbone. His lips a warm contrast to the slightly chilled sensation of his lip ring coming into contact with Michael's flushed skin. Under Luke, he tries to stay still and keep his breathing even as he kisses lower on Michael's body. His tongue slides across Michael's chest, slowly drawing sloppy circles until his mouth reaches Michael's abs. Luke's breath is hot against Michael's stomach as he opens his mouth to smear his lips across the muscles. 

"Patience," Luke mumbles, his lips by Michael's navel, when he feels Michael's hand in his hair trying to push him lower. Michael takes in a deep breath and closes his eyes, but he opens them a second later because he can't take not looking at Luke. Not right now. He props himself up on one elbow as Luke works his way lower. Teeth grazing Michael's skin and tongue teasing as he gets closer to Michael's belt. With one hand on Michael's hip, Luke uses his other hand to cup over Michael's dick, only barely pressing down for a real touch. It causes Michael to lift his hips up; a subconscious, desperate reaction and it makes Luke smile. 

He works open MIchael's belt easily, but he takes his time. It only makes Michael more grateful when Luke finally strips him of his jeans and boxers and there's nothing but a few inches between his already fully hard dick and Luke's too tempting mouth. 

The first real moan from Michael is a loud, appreciative one when Luke finally begins. Too loud probably, but neither care right now. Luke's mouth is warm and his tongue is soft and his lips are wet and Michael thinks he's forgotten how to breathe properly. Michael clenches his teeth, trying to keep himself at least kind of quiet, as he watches Luke take more of him into his mouth. He can't help but think about how beautiful Luke is from this angle; just perfect bone structure and eyelashes that remind Michael of butterfly wings. He pets Luke's hair as he watches Luke brings his hand up to meet his mouth. Slowly, Luke pulls up on Michael, does something with his tongue that makes Michael shake a little, and then opens his mouth wider to go lower again. It's too hot to not watch. Luke keeps his eyes closed as he forces himself to go deeper on Michael's cock, but Michael can see the way his eyelashes are fluttering. 

"So good, babe," Michael tells him, a little breathless, between moans and little pants. "You're so good at this."

Luke strokes his hip for a moment and makes a little sound before he turns his attention back fully to blowing Michael. He licks up the side of Michael's cock, stops at the head for a second, and then back down the other side. Michael holds his breath and has to look away for a second to keep it together. Luke's always been good at this, even back when they first started experimenting with each other and basically had no idea what either of them were doing-- Luke was always good. He never thought so, he was always shy whenever he went down on Michael in he beginning, but not anymore. Michael's always taken that as a personal win, the fact that he's gotten Luke to be comfortable sexually with him. He knows that things like this mean a lot to Luke, it was never just fucking with him. It's always special, and Michael reminds himself of that a lot. And it makes him feel like an idiot again because he knows Luke _doesn't_ just do this for everyone, it's too big of a deal to him. And there are a million people in the world who would like to trade places with Michael right now. 

He pulls on Luke's hair, as he watches him. Gently, he pushes Luke's head down lower. Immediately, he lets up when Luke makes a little noise, but he doesn't pull back at all. Luke always looks like he enjoys doing this for Michael. Eyes closed, mouth eager, making little noises around Michael's cock when he pushes into him. Luke's a people-pleaser. He likes nothing more than seeing someone smile because of something he did. All the little moans and changes in breathing he gets from Michael are encouraging to him. Lets him know he's doing some right; lets him know he's making Michael happy. 

"Okay," Michael whispers. He pulls on Luke's arm for him to stand up and he makes a sound before he does, like he wasn't ready to stop blowing Michael yet and it makes Michael smile. He takes Luke waist when he stands up in front of him and pulls Luke closer. Briskly, he undoes Luke's belt and jeans while he distracts his mouth by kissing almost mindlessly at Luke's midsection. Luke's hands are gentle and loving in his hair, his fingers massaging Michael's scalp, sliding through his hair smoothly. 

Once he's got Luke stripped he spins him toward the bed. Luke laughs as he lands on his side, looking over at Michael as he reaches for his suitcase next to his bed. It only takes him a second to find the little bottle he's looking for and he's crawling toward Luke, telling him, "On your stomach." 

Luke, always obedient and happy to be it, rolls over. He interlocks his fingers together and rests his forehead on the back of his hands, anticipating Michael's touch. Lips are the first thing Luke registers: crawling up his spine all the way up to the back of his neck. Then he hears the sound of the bottle opening and then there's nothing but silence until his own moan shatters it. He breathes out softly as Michael's finger enters him. Michael's hand is gentle, moving at a slow pace until Luke can't help it anymore and he's pushing back on Michael's finger.

He can feel Michael hovering over him; on his knees just inches next to him, multitasking by pressing kisses to the back of Luke's head and keeping his rhythm steady as he opens him up. Luke opens his mouth, gasping a little when he feels Michael curl his finger inside him, then breaths out in a way that ends in a moan. He pushes his legs apart a little more and lifts his hips to give Michael more access. 

Michael kisses by his ear then asks, "Another?"

Luke makes a sound and nods; he opens his eyes for a second to look at Michael, to watch his slack mouth turn into a smile when he catches Luke looking at him, and then closes them again. Michael's middle finger slides into Luke and he makes a noise that Michael wishes he had recorded and could play on repeat. Just a gentle hitch of his breath followed by a soft pleasurable moan and Michael thinks he's even harder now if that were possible. He watches Luke push back on his fingers with his eyes closed and one hand gripping the pillow under him. He kisses Luke's cheek, then his shoulder, then the back of his neck as he pushes his fingers into him quicker. 

Michael's not sure if anyone can get off on just hearing someone moan but he's sure if anyone's moans could do it, it's Luke's. It's adorable in a really hot way, how he tries to stay quiet. How a pretty audible moan is suddenly muffled and Michael sees him presses his mouth into the pillow below him or him biting at the back of his hand. The way he gasps for breath in little, hesitant intakes; small little whines escaping when he breathes out in attempt to calm himself down. He watches Luke press his forehead into his hands; he groans out, "Mi...," but he loses his voice and it turns into a moan, the sweetest twist on his name Michael's ever heard. 

All of this is a little too much-- hearing Luke make the sounds he's making, and his fingers being where his cock really wants to be, and Michael doesn't think he can hold out much longer. He leans back in by Luke, kisses from the back of his neck to the side of it, and asks with his mouth right by his cheek, "You ready?" in a slow, deep voice. Luke nods again, mumbles back, "Mmhm," with his mouth still against his hands. 

Michael pulls his fingers out of Luke gently, then leans over to his bag again for a condom. With his mouth he pulls it open and slides it on and can't help but stroke himself a few times, just watching Luke lay there, still on his stomach, the definition of the muscles on his back highlighted by the sun outside through his window shade. 

"Turn over," Michael tells him, but the command is said sweetly. Immediately, he's chasing Luke's mouth; kissing him eagerly as they settle into each other. "Wanna see you." 

He takes just another couple of seconds to put lube on his cock before he's got one hand on Luke's hip and the other lining himself up. Luke watches for a second, then his head rolls to the side when he feels the head of Michael's dick push against him. Michael thinks he should watch his dick as it enters Luke's body but Luke's face is more appealing. He leans over him, keeps his eyes on Luke's face and watches his expression change second by second. Anticipation in the way he way his teeth grazes over his bottom lip, then pain for only a second as Michael gets about halfway in, he watches his eyebrows scrunch together and he lets out a breath, then a moment later he's breathing in again, a moan following and his eyebrows relaxing. Then it's nothing but pleasure on Luke's face as he's biting the inside of his mouth between moans. 

Dropping down onto his forearm, Michael leans himself down so he's close enough to press his mouth to Luke's. He swallows a moan Luke lets out and smiles against his lips. Quickly, he speeds his hips up to the rhythm they usually fall in-- sort of upbeat and long, steady strokes. Luke leans upward, rolling his mouth off of Michael's and presses it into his neck instead. His teeth graze Michael's skin and his lips smear across his shoulder as he rocks against Michael. His breathing leaves Michael's chest warm; heavy pants of breath that curve into little whines and moans and pants by the end of them. Michael closes his eyes and listens. 

But a second later Luke's sliding a hand through his hair and whispering against his ear, "Slower, slower."

Michael pushes himself up, stops completely and asks with a bit of panic in his voice, "Shit, am I hurting you?"

Luke shakes his head. "No," he says back, he opens his eyes slowly to meet Michael's wide ones. Luke smiles slowly, brushing over Michael's cheekbone with the back of his hand as he tells him, "There's just...no need to rush."

Then Michael's smiling as he starts again, this time much slower. Both of their mouths hung open as Michael pushes all the way in, circles his hips, and then pulls nearly all the way out. He repeats that, keeps that rhythm, and appreciates the needy noises Luke makes. Luke feels every inch of Michael as he goes deeper into him, hits a spot inside that makes his heart speed up and his lungs lose air for a second, and he feels every inch as he pulls out to start again. He pushes back into Michael, rolls his hips smoothly and watches the way Michael's face changes when he tightens the muscles around Michael's cock. 

Michael drops his head down into the space between Luke's neck and his chin. Blindly, he reaches for Luke's hand and holds it tightly as he tries to keep his strokes steady but it's feeling way too good and he can't quite catch his breath. Luke's hand slides into the back of Michael's hair and stays there; they rock together in a motion that sort of makes them look like a wave. Michael pushing down when Luke pushes up, meeting somewhere in the middle and knocking the breath out of both of them each time. 

Michael's teeth on Luke's mouth feels good and he leans into him. Then Michael bites down, his teeth sinking into Luke's skin. He feels Luke's hand slide down his back and then push Michael's hips into himself more. Michael's tongue licks over the spot that must be already reddening and bruising up. He kisses over it for a while, hears Luke moaning under him and it makes him want to bite down again- to really give him something to moan about. 

Soon after, Michael's speeding up a little. He can't help himself. He takes Luke's side with one hand to keep him in place as he pushes harder into him. Under him, Michael hears Luke's breath hitch, with a moan to follow. A happy sound, sort of like a laugh and a moan together. Michael kisses his neck and then his mouth. Luke breathes quicker as Michael goes faster; desperate little noises escaping Luke's lips that make Michael smile. 

"You sound fuckin' beautiful," Michael tells him, with his mouth pressed right against his ear in a soft voice. 

Luke laughs breathlessly. "Shut up," he tells him lightly, a little embarrassed. 

Michael kisses him again; whispers back, "Only if you don't."

Luke wraps his legs around Michael's back and hooks his arms around his shoulders. He knows Michael loves when he does that. And Michael, unable to hold out anymore, pushes into Luke quicker now. He smears his lips against any part of Luke that's close enough just to do something with his mouth. He can feel himself getting closer but he doesn't want to come before Luke so he reaches between them and wraps his hand around Luke's dick. 

In time with the way he's pushing into Luke, he strokes him. Michael listens to the changes in Luke's breathing as he slows his hand down, then his stroke down, then picks them back up again- harder this time. He tries to keep the pressure in his hand even for Luke. Michael hears Luke gasp and he buries his face even deeper into Michael's neck. 

"Fuck, don't stop," Luke moans out, pushing up into Michael's hand. A second later Michael feels Luke's body stiffen and his breath get caught in his throat. The hand he has in Michael's hair tightens suddenly but the pain feels good. He hears Luke whining underneath him, weak moans that transition into even weaker sounds as he tries to speak but can't quite remember how to right now. Michael feels his mouth press against his neck as he comes down off his orgasm and slowly lets go of the grip he has in Michael's hair. 

Then Michael's rolling his hips into Luke in short, powerful strokes that push Luke up the bed a little. Luke's name is rolling off of Michael's tongue as he comes, forehead pressed against Luke's, breathing into his mouth heavily. And he's loud, he knows it-- heavy moans and deep gasps for breath, but he can't make himself care right now. He thinks he sees stars, or maybe that light everyone's always talking about right before they go to heaven. Luke strokes the side of his face sweetly, shushing him gently. 

It takes a while for Michael to gather himself enough to pull out of Luke and roll off of him. When he does, it's with lazy movements. He tosses the condom in the trash can that's never been so conveniently by his bed before and kisses Luke's cheek softly. 

Luke's voice is gentle when he whispers to Michael, "You know how much I love you right?"

Michael nods; then says back with his voice tired and slow, "Almost as much as I love you."

He hears Luke laugh but then there's silence immediately after. 

"Seriously," Luke says to him. "I'm yours, I swear."

And Michael knows it. He always has, but it still makes his heart jump and his stomach flutter a little to hear it. Especially right now.

Michael kisses him again for good measure.

"I'm yours too."

Luke turns on his side to face him properly. "Should we shower?" he asks. 

Immediately Michael shakes his head. "Too tired," he whines. He wraps an arm around Luke's midsection and holds him tightly. 

"I didn't sleep at all last night," Michael tells him. He closes his eyes, settling himself properly next to Luke. 

He feels Luke tracing his ribs as he says, "Me either. Only a couple hours."

"Good," Michael tells him, his voice barely audible now and trailing off. "Then it's settled. We sleep." 

*** *** ***

They don't emerge from Michael's room until it's dinner time. Ashton and Calum are in the kitchen and there's a football game playing in the living room that they both know Calum put on. The smoke in the kitchen tells them Ashton's cooking burgers tonight.

"They're alive," Ashton says with a smile as he spots them both heading down the stairs. 

Calum turns around and smiles at them. 

"All is well, I assume?" Calum says, looking back and forth between Luke and Michael.

Luke nods and Michael smiles. "We're good," Luke says as he takes a seat at island in the middle of the kitchen. Michael takes the seat next to him after pressing a kiss to the back of his head. 

"Actually," Calum says laughing. "We knew already. Like we were downstairs and we still heard you."

"I tried _not_ to hear," Ashton says, squinting at them and batting his spatula in their direction playfully. 

Immediately Luke turns red and he drops his head downward toward the table. "Sorry guys," he mumbles back softly. 

Calum shrugs. "We were gonna be mad but...make-up sex is tradition, right? We shoulda seen it coming."

"Damn straight," Michael says hardily. He nudges Luke's shoulder and smiles at him. Lovingly he rubs his back and whispers at him to not be embarrassed. Luke leans into him and lays his head on his shoulder. 

Ashton flips a burger then looks back at them. "I guess we forgive you for scarring us for life," he says, still grinning. 

Michael laughs. "I wasn't sorry anyway."

Calum throws the roll of towel paper on the table at Michael; he falls on the floor trying to dodge it. 

"Assholes," Calum mumbles. He turns to Luke and smiles at him. "Except you. You're okay, Lukey."

"Fuck you!" Michael calls from the floor dramatically. 

"Stop yelling!" Ashton tells them although his voice is louder than everyone's. 

**Author's Note:**

> hope you liked it! comments/thoughts are much appreciated :)  
> come say hey on [tumblr](http://coltnposey.tumblr.com) if you wanna!


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